


Bits and Pieces

by hullaballoonsie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Microfics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hullaballoonsie/pseuds/hullaballoonsie
Summary: A collection of Drarry drabbles
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 5





	1. Getting Ready, 113 words

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of my microfics from Tumblr.

The late summer light gilds Draco’s hair, swept over one bare shoulder. He brushes it in long, meditative strokes, not looking at the mirror in front of him.

It takes Harry four strides to reach him, six seconds from the door until he’s on his knees, lips to Draco’s pale neck.

“Shall we go out tonight?” Draco murmurs. “I feel like dancing.”

“Yeah.” Harry nuzzles the soft skin, breathing him in, and thinks of all their Saturday nights. The aquarelle swirl of club lights on Draco’s face, the press of sweaty bodies, the drunken, giggly kisses. The wild, desperate abandon of forgetting everything and being young. In love. “Yeah. Whatever makes you happy.”


	2. Bonfire, 52 words

The sparks crackle and tear away from the flames, drifting up into the sky like shooting stars, inverse. Draco glances at Harry, so fleeting Harry might have imagined it. Their friends don’t notice when he turns, wordless, and walks off into the darkened woods. Harry follows, thinking about the nature of gravity.


	3. When The Party's Over, 155 words

Summer clings to Draco’s skin, his clothes rumpled from the Hogwarts Express ride. His last one. 

Funny how things end: stomach queasy from last night’s hangover and too much pumpkin juice from the trolley, hugging his friends on the platform like they’re not going to owl each other later and meet up tomorrow. 

And then – nothing. 

Walking out into the world as if he’s supposed to know what to do now.

“Draco, wait up!”

He walks faster, weaving his way through the crowd at the station. 

A hand grips his wrist.

“What, Potter?” 

Potter opens and closes his mouth, taken aback by Draco’s tone.

“Nothing. I just thought… Last night…”

“Thought what? That we’re friends now? Boyfriends?” Draco spits the word out like a fly in his tea. 

Behind Potter, a flash goes off. Surely one of the Prophet paparazzi. 

An apt reminder that all Draco can ever do is walk away. 

So he does.


	4. Mask, 58 words

“Just use magic,” Draco demands as Harry carefully frees another few strands of his silver hair. 

The smooth ribbon of the mask is still as hopelessly knotted in the locks as it was when Harry took on the task of untangling it. 

He doesn’t use magic, though. 

He likes removing silk from Draco’s body with his bare hands.


	5. Miracle, 58 words

"So wait, wait," Draco whispers in the middle of the sermon. "He died?"

"Yes," Harry mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

"And then he came back to life?"

"Yes."

"And they call him the Saviour?"

"They do."

Draco’s lips curl into a smirk.

"I always knew you don't have an original bone in your body, Potter."


	6. Break the 4th Wall, 74 words

“Are you sure about this?” Harry asks, but he can’t take his eyes off Draco. Everything about him is perfect: his knee-length silk dress in deep green, the sparkly, strappy heels on his delicate feet.

“The only thing the invitation said was cocktail attire, and this adheres,” Draco says, adding another dab of gloss to his lips. “I look amazing, if I do say so myself. Besides, you know I love pissing _her_ off.”


	7. Blanket Fort, 98 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of canon divergence, and takes place in 6th year, after Sectumsempra.

“It’s pointless,” Draco says, bitter like the smell of ditanny in the air. “They’ll find me. Or he’ll just kill my parents.”

“We can protect you. Hide you.”

Draco doesn’t point out that just hours ago, Potter slashed him open mouth to hip.

“Don’t be naive. It’s useless. Like hiding from an earthquake in a blanket fort.”

Potter doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not welcome on your side. Nobody wants me there.”

“I do.”

Something petulant and small and scared inside Draco wishes he could say that isn’t enough. 

But it is.

He nods and sinks back into the pillows.


	8. Return, 75 words

"What is this?"

The dark length of wood lay on the table between them.

"The hawthorn wand. I'm returning it," Draco said. Harry's heart sank.

After last night, he had thought...

"Why?"

"I don't want it. It's not mine anymore. It's yours."

Silence fell between them, thick like December dusk.

"We can never be equals if you are the master of my wand," Draco said, softer. "I don't want the stupid thing. I want you."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hullaballoonsie on Tumblr too.


End file.
